


Bad Day

by thewriterpoe



Category: SHINee
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Spanking, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterpoe/pseuds/thewriterpoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door closed with such ominous finality that Taemin swore he could hear it echo. The air around him weighed heavily on his shoulders as he waited for the sound that would make his shit day worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day

The door closed with such ominous finality that Taemin swore he could hear it echo. The air around him weighed heavily on his shoulders as he waited for the sound that would make his shit day worse.

“Lee Taemin.”

Taemin closed his eyes and swallowed hard. For a second, he wondered how a name could sound so dirty.

“Hyung!” He hated that he already sounded like he was begging.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” a voice, dark and low, remarked somewhere behind him – at the door probably. “And bad boys have to be punished, don’t you agree?”

Taemin tried to keep calm, to slow the erratic beat pulsing through his veins.

“I asked you a question,” Jinki hissed, his breath in Taemin’s ear; the warm sensation running cold over his skin.

“Yes,” Taemin reluctantly replied. He felt a smile spreading across Jinki’s lip and was not comforted. It wasn’t the smile Jinki showed to other people. Only Taemin knew this smile; this cruel, almost sinister smile.

“Yes, what?” The warm breath was at his nape, lingering.

“Yes, bad boys have to be punished.”

 Taemin hated being punished; went as far as using aegyo to avoid it but right then he was too pissed off to even try. He assumed the position, bending over on the dining table, pants at his ankles, ass squirming in the air.

“Do you know why I’m punishing you?” Jinki loomed behind Taemin, fondling him.

“Yes,” Taemin replied, remembering the way he glared at Jinki all through Minho’s party only to roll his eyes away when Jinki finally looked at him. He remembered snuggling into Jonghyun and the vein that appeared on Jinki’s neck because of it. He remembered the cheerful way he said ‘no’ when Jinki asked if he wanted to go home even he though knew it wasn’t really a question. He remembered the deceptive way Jinki held the back of his neck as he said ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ marveling at Jinki’s talent for ventriloquism because his lips formed perfectly the smile that was for other people.

“Why am I punishing you?”

“For acting up.”

Jinki chuckled. It was a warm, breathy sound.

The first blow was usually the second worst only because it’s the first. The sting was sharp but it faded quickly.  The pain increased at the second and third strike but plateaued at the fourth, fifth, and sixth strike. Then the heat intensified. Coupled with the sting of the seventh strike, it’s almost unbearable.

Taemin sunk his teeth harshly into his lower lip to stop the sobs from leaving his mouth. He couldn’t do anything, however, about the tears dropping steadily from his eyes.

The last blow was usually the worst. Punctuated for effect, it was the hardest strike and with heat radiating down his thighs, the sting carried there as well.

“You did so well,” Jinki cooed, stroking Taemin’s back.

Taemin knew it was supposed to be comforting but Jinki’s strokes were sometimes long and they grazed against too-sensitive skin.

“Don’t touch me,” Taemin growled. With his mouth finally open, a sob or two snuck out.

There was a marked change in the atmosphere, a shift in the power dynamic from the dominant to the submissive.

“Taemin-ah,” Jinki whispered, reaching out, confusion lacing the word.

It was almost like radar; Taemin shrugged the gesture off even before contact was made. “I said don’t touch me.” But it was hard for Jinki because Taemin was crying.

“JACK SPARROW!” Taemin screamed when Jinki reached out again.

Jinki froze, shocked. Taemin had never used their safe word like this before…not after the role play. He curled his fingers into his palms, visibly shaking because all he could do was watch as Taemin crumbled to the floor and wept; watch as Taemin got up; watch as Taemin pulled up his pants and strode off to the bathroom, refusing to look at him.

Ten minutes later, Taemin emerged from the bathroom. He looked refreshed.  Jinki, on the other hand, looked like he’d just realized that he was the scum of the earth.

“Hyung,” Taemin called softly.

Jinki looked up at Taemin with wide, cautious eyes. He was momentarily confused when Taemin knelt in front of him and started unbuckling his belt.

“Stop it,” he pushed Taemin’s hands away.

“It’s ok,” Taemin said, smiling to assure him.

“No, it’s not Ok, Taemin. What the fuck just happened?”

Taemin sat back on his hunches, wincing at the pain. Sitting down would hurt for the next couple of days.

“I -” he hesitated.  It was a problem he knew he had to fix – to communicate instead of holding it all in, instead of sending ambiguous emoticons that could mean number of things. He had been cut him off in traffic that morning, spilled coffee on his favorite grey pants, yelled at for something he didn’t do. He could have just called Jinki to tell him about his absolute shit day but he sent a sad face emoticon which Jinki didn’t reply to, which, in his irritation, lead him to think that Jinki didn’t give a shit about him. And if Jinki didn’t give a shit about him then he certainly did not give a shit about playing on Jinki’s insecurities.

He still could have told Jinki all that but instead he just sighed and said, “I had a bad day.”


End file.
